


More Candles

by missbeizy



Category: Glee
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Temperature Play, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First time wax play and frottage, early!Klaine.  Very light kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Candles

"Alright. So it's--a bit much."

Blaine stares out over the veritable sea of candles. He doesn't even feel tempted to count them; that's how many there are. Candles of every imaginable shape, size, and color, and Kurt's idea for the evening had been to sort through them. Something about his dad and "fire hazard, good sweet lord, Kurt".

Blaine isn't clear on the details.

"Um," he says, motioning. "So, just let me know which ones you want to keep and we'll, uh. Throw away the rest." He has a few boxes at his feet, two labeled "throw away" and one labeled "keep".

But of course it turns out that each and every one, from the simplest little tea lights to the ones shaped like Disney characters, have a story. He enjoys hearing the stories; what he doesn't care for is Kurt's hesitation to part with the majority of them. By the time they reach the end, there are far too many in the keep box.

"Can I be honest, Kurt?" he begins, gently. "I think--maybe you need to take a second look at some of these. Maybe the more recent ones?" He wouldn't dream of suggesting that they throw away any of the ones that remind Kurt of his mother.

Kurt frowns, deflating. "I know. I just--it's so hard to say goodbye. Maybe if we burned some? At least then I'd be using them."

"Candlelit snack time?"

"I'll get the pita chips," Kurt chirps, and skips downstairs.

Blaine pats himself on the back for the good idea. It's kind of nice, actually, sitting in a circle of candles and eating hummus with his boyfriend, learning the story behind each candle in turn. 

Even Mickey Mouse's slowly melting face isn't enough to take the smile off of his face.

Kurt is lying on his side munching on a carrot stick, eyes drifting from candle to candle.

Blaine picks up one that's in the shape of an alligator, not realizing the full extent of its shape until a droplet of hot green wax slides down the tail and lands on his ankle.

"Ow," he gasps, half-dropping it--Kurt is there to intercept.

"Careful," Kurt says.

The warmth of the wax after the initial shock of pain makes him blush. He isn't prepared for the way it almost feels nice, and even less prepared for the way it feels when Kurt leans over, blows on the wax to cool it and peels it off, taking a few leg hairs with it.

"Shh, okay?" he coos, petting the abused skin.

Blaine swallows thickly. He still feels kind of--weird. Achy. His stomach is twisted up. "I'm fine, it wasn't much."

"Did you get any on your pants?"

"No, no, I'm good," he rushes to say.

Kurt's blue-green eyes shift across his curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Yep," Blaine squeaks.

He blames the way that Kurt looks in the candlelight, pale and unearthly and beautiful, eyes flashing like precious gems. He blames how intimate it feels, sprawled among the pillows, laughing and talking and trading slow, innocent kisses. 

"I think if we get any more distracted," he breathes against Kurt's lips, "we're going to set ourselves on fire."

Kurt giggles, trailing the tip of his nose down Blaine's ear. "Mm. Maybe." He tangles their fingers together, smiling. "I like this. It's romantic, don't you think?"

"Everything's romantic when I'm with you," he replies, cupping Kurt's cheek and kissing him again. 

It doesn't take long to work back up to the warm urgency of the kisses of mere minutes ago, Kurt's jaw working against his palm as their lips meet and part, meet and part.

It's all very normal, very them, until Kurt's fingertip finds the sore spot on his ankle where the wax had landed. He tenses just a little when they brush over the pinkish mark but has to stop kissing Kurt entirely when Kurt draws a fingernail across it.

Kurt pulls back, teeth pressed into his lower lip. "You've been blushing ever since." It's Kurt's turn to blush, apparently. He looks quite happily scandalized. "Must we discuss fetishes, Blaine Warbler?" His eyelashes flutter.

Blaine laughs, ducking his face a bit. "Um."

"Can I be honest?" Kurt asks, selecting a small votive from among the herd of candles around them. "I think red is much more your color." He toys with it, sloshing the melted wax, eyebrow raised.

God. He's serious. At least--acting serious enough to give Blaine either an in or an out.

Blaine swallows, recalling how it had hurt but in a good way. He turns his hand palm down in between them, shrugging in a way that isn't quite a commitment. "I trust your judgement in that arena."

Kurt brushes a kiss across his knuckles, then lightly tips the candle and lets three drops softly plop across his skin. 

Blaine hisses--it hurts and then it just feels warm, and the constrictive way that the wax tightens on his skin after the fact feels so strange and good at the same time. He isn't prepared for the arousal that races through him after, or the look on Kurt's face, surprised and curious.

Nor is he prepared for Kurt to lean over his hand and peel the wax off, ever so slowly, with his teeth.

"Oh," he breathes, eyes riveted on the sight.

Kurt kisses the flushed marks left behind, then smiles coyly up at him. "Okay?"

Overwhelmed, he can only nod. He can feel himself hardening in his pants and desperately doesn't want it to show, not now. God, does he have a fetish for this? How embarrassing that Kurt figured it out so easily.

Is he obvious? Is he weird? Is he obviously weird?

He frowns, even as Kurt begins gently kissing his fingers. 

"I love your hands," Kurt whispers, and Blaine can't help but trace that beautiful, wide, pink mouth when it reaches the tips of his fingers. Kurt bites the tip of his middle finger playfully, cheeks flushed. 

Blaine suppresses a whimper. "God, Kurt."

"Too much?"

"N-no. It feels wonderful." He smiles sheepishly. "A little too wonderful, if you know what I mean?"

Kurt's face shutters. "Ah." He lets Blaine's hand drop. "Difficult to cool off with all of these candles, also."

Blaine laughs nervously. "That, too."

The problem is, Kurt doesn't forget. Even after the Great Candle Cleanse he still has more candles than any one person might need in a lifetime, and when they do get the chance to be alone for any suitable length of time at his house he insists on burning at least one or two.

It's not as if they talk about it; it's that Blaine thinks about it every time they're making out at Kurt's house, a candle lit on Kurt's desk or nightstand, or sometimes on the floor if they're sprawled out with homework. It's that he glances at them a little too long, and that he knows that Kurt notices.

"What do you think of this one?" Kurt asks one evening just as they finish their homework. 

Blaine is spread out on his stomach, head pillowed on folded arms. Kurt holds up a pale lilac colored candle; it's a thick one with three wicks.

"It smells nice," he offers.

Kurt's eyes drift sideways. "I meant, for you. You're really tanned right now, and I think it would look beautiful on--on your skin." 

His eyes are telling a story that Blaine isn't sure either of them are ready to verbalize.

Blaine swallows, trying to ignore the way that his pulse has begun to race and the heat that's worming its way down his traitorous body. "Is, um--is this something you want to--to do now?"

"You never brought it up again," Kurt says.

"You don't think it's weird?" he asks, face scrunched up.

"We haven't really talked about, um, that stuff," Kurt says, running a hand down his side. "But you seemed to like it and I--I like that."

"I do," he admits breathlessly. "I do like it, but I didn't know before it happened accidentally, I just--I want you to know that I wasn't plotting you and me and a room full of candles in advance or anything."

Kurt laughs, cheeks and ears flushed bright red. "I believe you."

"Did you, um, think about where you--where you wanted it on me?" 

Kurt's eyes glitter. "On your back?"

Oh, my god.

Blaine inhales shakily. "Wh-which part?" He swallows.

The sneaky poke of a pink tongue occurs on Kurt's bottom lip. "All of it?"

"Oh," Blaine breathes.

"You could just--pull your shirt up, but I don't want to mess the fabric. Could I--could I take it off?"

They've never gone that far before. He wants to ask Kurt to join him in that shirtlessness to make it even, but the courage dries up in his throat and all he can manage is a quick nod. He sits up, shaking as he tugs his shirt over his head and folds it neatly, setting it out of the way on the foot of Kurt's bed.

Kurt's face goes cherry red. He's staring.

Blaine kneels, trying to sit up straight. The scrutiny is mortifying but the look on Kurt's face makes him feel--something he has never really felt before.

"Your shoulders," Kurt breathes thoughtlessly.

"Oh. Um." 

"This was much easier when I didn't have proof of how incredibly attractive you are under all those cardigans," comes the second breathless observation, and this time Blaine can't help the nervous giggle that rises to join the one Kurt chokes out.

"Do you want me to lie down?" Blaine asks, allowing himself to get caught up on the logistics because it's easier than thinking about what they're going to do. Kurt nods and he gets comfortable again, though this time he is keenly aware of the carpet and pillows supporting his naked upper body.

Kurt lightly traces the curve of his right shoulder, breathing gone choppy. "You're--so perfect." His hands are blazing warm and a little sweaty and Blaine shivers at their tentative exploration, sucking his bottom lip in to keep the noises from coming out as Kurt strokes down his spine.

"I don't know about that," he groans. God, Kurt isn't even doing anything and he's getting hard. "That feels so nice, Kurt."

Kurt flattens his hand at the middle of Blaine's back and keeps it that way all the way to the lower dip where his fingertips tease the waistband of Blaine's jeans. Blaine twitches; his lower back is sensitive.

"Do you like that?" Kurt whispers, and god, it's so unintentionally throaty that Blaine's hips twitch into the floor.

"God, yes." He can feel the sea of goosebumps that his back has become, can feel the hair on his body standing on end. And Kurt has barely touched him.

Kurt kneels at his side. 

He tilts his head, staring up at Kurt through his eyelashes.

"Can I...?" The candle is in his hand, a neat pool of wax melted at its top. Blaine shivers and the shiver goes warm somewhere around his belly, spreading hot throughout his body. Kurt's fingertip trails across his shoulder blade. "Here?"

"Y-yeah, that's--yes." 

"You're shaking," Kurt observes, halfway between unsure and incredibly turned on.

"Please, Kurt?"

The first splash of hot wax is a true shock; it's so much more than that first accidental time. It hurts. Blaine gasps and grips the pillow he's been hugging beneath his chin. He can feel his spine bend and his shoulders draw together and the skin flatten over his ribs as he inhales suddenly. But just when he thinks it might be too much the wax goes from hot to warm, and a riff of shivers make goosebumps flower over his skin. The wax hardens and cools and he pants softly into every sensory decline until he's breathing deep and slow and the tears he'd shed in response to the pain are drying on the pillow beneath his cheek.

And he's hard. He's so hard that the soft pillow shoved under his hips is doing nothing to help.

"That was a lot," Kurt breathes, eyes wide and wet and staring. He tips the candle again. "Maybe a little less, maybe...down your back?"

"Kurt," Blaine whimpers.

Plop, plop, plop. Soft droplets, one at a time, drawing a line of soft lilac colored dots down his spine. He forces out a breath, fingers digging into the pillow as the pain-warmth-sting flares and calms with the wax splashing and hardening. The smell of the candle is sweetly pungent.

These slower, more deliberate drops are worse because they give him too much time to feel and think.

When the splash hits his lower back he begins to lose control, small high-pitched whimpers breaking past his lips, pelvis churning in an almost embarrassed stutter because Kurt is watching.

He's so close. All it would take would be just a little more friction; there's a button somewhere at the center of this pillow and the next time he manages to get himself just there against it, he cold easily--so easily--

His entire back is covered in streaks and dots of wax now, and the pool at the very center is thick. 

Kurt sits back when there's nothing left to do, tracing the patterns, tugging at the completely cooled spots but avoiding the wax that's still soft.

"It's so pretty," he breathes.

Blaine turns his face into the crook of his elbow and huffs out a breath. "Kurt, I'm--I need a break."

"Did I hurt you?" 

He laughs self-consciously, feeling his erection throb in time with his heartbeat. Thankfully, Kurt gets it.

"Oh my god," he says, blinking rapidly. He's staring down at Blaine's hips. "Oh my god, why didn't you say something? I didn't mean to make you that uncomfortable."

"I'm just going to sit up, okay?" He does so slowly, arranging himself on his knees and feeling the wax crack and crumble--some of it just falls off but most stays stuck to his skin. 

Kurt's eyes jerk from the tent in Blaine's pants to his face.

"Oh, my god," he repeats, eyelashes fluttering. "Blaine."

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I, um, obviously like this a lot more than I realized." It isn't the first time they've seen each other awkwardly hard, but it is the first time they've done something like this and been turned on as a result.

Kurt is clutching a pillow over his lap and his cheeks are flaming red. 

Blaine stares. 

"You aren't alone?" Kurt says, voice gone two octaves higher than normal.

"Oh," Blaine replies.

"Well. This has far exceeded my expectations." 

He's so nervous. It's adorable. Or at least, it would be more adorable if Blaine weren't just as mortified. 

He takes a breath, then releases it slowly, forcing himself to make eye contact. "Would you--would you still like to take the wax off?" He's definitely calmer now; his erection is still very much present and nagging, but he doesn't feel like he's going to go off at the next touch.

"Oh dear god yes," Kurt breathes, reaching out and drawing Blaine close by his elbows. 

They kneel facing each other and Kurt reaches around, beginning with the easy to remove, smaller splatters. It isn't until he goes for the thick blobs over Blaine's spine and shoulders that the pain comes into play again.

It's a different kind of pain. Blaine finds himself breathing almost as if in a trance; he lowers his forehead to Kurt's shoulder and just lets it happen, forces his body to relax into it as the wax is peeled off piece by piece. He still shakes; he still aches. But he trusts Kurt, and Kurt's gentle hands, and Kurt's instincts.

He turns his face into Kurt's throat, finds the spot where his pulse is hammering and kisses it. He lets his mouth open over it, lets his tongue dart out to taste the salty sweat that's gathered there. 

Kurt's almost done taking the wax off, fingers dancing lightly along the waistband of Blaine's jeans to get the last few pieces. Blaine's ass rises into his searching hand.

Kurt shivers. "Blaine--"

"Sorry," Blaine whispers, kissing higher along the hinge of Kurt's jaw. His breath is warm over Kurt's clammy skin. "Feels good."

"You're so sensitive," Kurt says wonderingly.

"Feels good," he repeats in a daze, biting at Kurt's earlobe. "God, Kurt, I'm--" He can't think when he's this far gone, and Kurt's fingers dancing just out of range of his butt is like torture.

"If I let this pillow go, would you--freak out?" It comes out all on one breath.

Blaine's body twinges hungrily. "Um, that depends on your goal?"

"If I asked you to come closer," he continues, breathing warm and damp over Blaine's neck. "If I--pressed myself against you--"

"Oh my god," Blaine whines. "Are you teasing?"

"Not teasing." Pant; kiss.

"Oh my god."

"You're freaking out."

Blaine gasps, sliding his hands up Kurt's back. "Because I want you so badly, Kurt, please." He can't even look Kurt in the eye right now; he's embarrassed and nervous and desperate and he knows that if he were to see the same emotions on Kurt's face he'd fall apart even faster.

Kurt tugs him inward, guiding him closer until he's straddled on his knees over Kurt's thighs and they sort of kneel up together and--

It's so easy to just let their hips line up. So easy that it's almost unfair.

Blaine gasps, feeling Kurt hard against him for the first time. His eyes snap open and meet Kurt's and he sees all the things he'd dreaded seeing, all the things that make him realize how completely on the same page they are, how close they both are. 

He'd always imagined that feeling another man's cock against his might disappoint, might be just--another body, just another thing to do, but oh, how wrong he had been.

He edges his body closer, letting his pelvis grind down. Kurt's eyelids flicker shut.

"Blaine," comes the nervous, breathless gasp. Kurt's fingernails drag down his sensitive back, sparking heat in their wake.

"So good," he replies, rocking their bodies together, lining up their erections. Even through all those layers of clothing he can still feel Kurt, long and firm and warm. His body tingles at the contact.

"Oh god," Kurt whimpers, moving with him, scraping at his back. Blaine can feel the wax residue beneath Kurt's nails. "Is this okay? Is this--what you wanted?"

"I didn't," Blaine breathes, "think about--anything, really, I just like--I like this--it's--oh god Kurt you're so hard, it feels amazing."

"You, too," Kurt squeaks out, moving faster. "Oh my god, this is completely undignified." 

"I want to feel you," he replies, pawing one hand down Kurt's shirt front. "Please? Just--pants open?"

"Oh god, oh god, yes, yes."

Before either of them can rethink it Blaine reaches down with shaking hands and jerks first his jeans open and underwear down and then Kurt's. The moment he's done Kurt grabs him by his hair and kisses him. He slings one leg a little higher, dragging their pelvises together as tightly as possible.

It's awkward for just a moment.

Kurt's cock is thick and hot against his own. He squeaks but it's muffled by Kurt's lips. He can feel every bit of them rub together, from the curved, swollen heads wet at the slit to the thick curve of their shafts, rubbing rubbing rubbing with every small thrust, and it feels perfect, the friction and the drag and the way the ridges catch and the veins press together, and Kurt's tiny waist and hips, and the swell of his ass under Blaine's hands as Blaine uses that hold to guide them together.

"I can't--" Kurt's chest is rising and falling in spiky, sharp jerks.

"You can, it's okay," he pants, shaking with wanting it, with wanting to feel Kurt break. He rocks faster, pressing them tight between their bellies, paying special attention to Kurt's end of the thrusting. "Come on--I don't mind, I want--I want you to."

Kurt shakes, squeaky whimpers cracking in his throat, face buried in Blaine's hair. "Oh god, right there, just, harder, harder."

Blaine digs his fingers into Kurt's ass and holds him still, thrusting hard against his belly. God, it's wet, and he can feel Kurt's cock pulse when he starts to come.

"Yes," he pants, kissing Kurt's neck, frantic and fast. "There you go, come on. Come on."

Kurt's pelvis spasms under his fingers; he comes in between them, wet spurts shooting high along Kurt's shirt and his bare chest. 

God, the noises Kurt makes when he comes--

Blaine whimpers and follows, hips jolting. Their clothes are ruined, but he can't bring himself to care. His heart is pounding and his body relaxing with the sheer liquid pleasure of orgasm and Kurt is breathing warm and fast against his shoulder.

The kiss they share afterward is different. Everything feels different now that they've--together--oh, god.

Kurt giggles against his lips. "Oh my god, Blaine."

"Messy," Blaine exhales.

"Completely disgusting," Kurt agrees, grinning wildly. "All your fault."

"Blame accepted. Keep kissing me."

"Always," Kurt breathes.


End file.
